


Itsy Bitsy Spider

by buckys_stripper_splits



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 23:25:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17151014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckys_stripper_splits/pseuds/buckys_stripper_splits
Summary: baby pete wakes up in the middle of the night and goes on an adventure to find his pacifier





	Itsy Bitsy Spider

**Author's Note:**

> heres a lil christmas themed superfam fluff cos idk i jus really need some super family fluff ok  
> also u apologize because im horrible at writing fluff and this fic is short

It's late. Peter had long been tucked into his crib, two loving kisses placed on his brown curls, before his dads went off to do whatever they did at this time of night. Something had woken the small boy up and he stirred and whined softly in his bed before sitting up. The cold December air had chilled the baby’s room while he slept and he gave a shiver before looking around.

The rubber pacifier he had before he drifted off had fallen out of his mouth and was now nowhere to be seen. Peter was recently teething and he wanted to cry for one of his dads to find it for him, but that would mean he'd have to go back to bed right after. So the boy stands up and peeks down his crib rails.

The fall was pretty high it seemed, and had it not been for his abilities, he would've been too short to climb over, but Peter easily sticks to the rails and, with all of his might, hoists himself over. He lands, quite surprised by the fall, on his plush bottom with a soft little grunt and begins waddling to where his pacifiers were kept. He wasn't quite steady on his feet just yet and the threat of tipping over was present with each step, but eventually he maked his way over to the dresser. 

This time, he was too short to get past this obstacle and couldn't reach the drawer handles. Why his dads decided to put the pacifiers in the very top drawer Peter had no clue, but he wasn't getting anywhere by reaching. In fact, all he got was an unsteady balance and a trip back down to the floor.

He huffs and stands up, careful to not slip back down, and waddles over to the door. Luckily, it was always kept cracked open so Tony and Stephen could better hear Peter if he ever cried during the night, and the boy easily pulls it open and quietly walks out.

Down the very long, very _quiet_ hall was the stairs that led to the living room. Peter sees lamplight amidst the overwhelming darkness of the hall and quickly makes his way to the end.

He stands, looking and chewing at his pudgy fingers, at the very top of the stairs.

Stairs, he remembers, are tricky. Easy to go down, harder to get up. He plops down onto his bottom and— one by one— scoots down each step. He finds it quite entertaining how his hair bounces with each step, and he almost giggles, but he remembers he must remain quiet so as to not raise suspicions. 

Once at the bottom, Peter hoists himself up by the intricate railing and starts for the living room.

The fireplace is still roaring, so one of his dads must still be awake. Tony, most likely. Peter walks through the entryway and into the warm room and his eyes are instantly pulled to the Christmas tree that the family had set up not too long ago. It was ginormous and took up just enough space in their large living room to look proportional. The lights on the tree always make Peter happy and he wants to grab at the pretty ornaments hanging from the branches, but his dads always say no. Something about them being breakable.

Sad to look away, Peter turns his attention to the coffee table. It’s clean except the pile of magazines and coasters set there for guests. He huffs and crouches down low to see if his pacifier may have fallen to the plush carpet and— _yes_! 

Right under the couch lay a red pacifier! How it got there was beyond Peter but he didn’t think about it too much. He instantly grabs it and shoves it into his mouth to sooth his aching teeth.

Now that Peter’s found what he needed, he supposed it wouldn’t hurt to look at the tree some more. And, since his dads aren’t with him, there’s no one to stop him from touching the ornaments. One in particular had always caught his eyes. 

It was a silver, geometrical shape— about the size of a grapefruit— and it was low enough for him to reach easily without having to stand on his tippy toes.

Slowly and carefully, Peter reaches out his pudgy hand, closer and closer, and—

 

“ _Peter_?”

 

The voice makes Peter jump, causing him to knock the ornament off the tree and onto his foot. It shatters almost instantly and the sound alone scared him enough to make him start crying. The pacifier falls from his mouth once more.

Tony comes rushing to his son and scoops him up to examine his foot. A scratch, nothing more. Thankfully.

Peter buries his face into Tony’s shoulder and bawls, soaking his shirt. By this time, Stephen heard the commotion and is rushing over to see what’s happened.

“Peter dropped an ornament on his foot and it broke. He’s ok, just a scratch, but I need to clean up the glass before someone else gets hurt,” Tony explains as he tries to console the crying child in his arms. 

Stephen looks at the mess, and with a wave of his hand the ornament is fixed. Tony rolls his eyes and mutters, “ _Show_ _off_.”

Together the family sits on the plush couch and hushes their baby softly to calm him down enough to get him back to bed. Peters not crying as much, but he’s still got tears and snot running down his face, and every so often he’ll give a pitiful little hiccup and cough. 

“Here,” Tony gently hands Peter to Stephen and stands up. “I’ll get him a warm rag.”

“ _Dada_ ,” Peter whines and makes grabby hands up at him. Tony smooths his curls and places a kiss on his forehead. 

“I’ll be right back, Peanut,” he says in a soft voice and turns to leave.

Stephen’s cloak wraps protectively around the two of them, making Peter grab two handfuls of the red fabric to jostle around. Stephen’s heart warms at the sight and pulls his son closer to him, rubbing soothing circles on his round little belly.

There’s a moment when the only sound heard is the gentle crackle of the fire and Peter’s steadying breath. Outside, snow falls to the ground to coat it in a beautiful, stark white blanket, and to surprise the children when they wake up on Christmas morning. 

Stephen glances over at the grandfather clock next to the fireplace and sees that it’s almost 2am.

And, as if on queue, Peter lets out a long yawn and leans against his fathers chest. He’s exhausted from his little adventure and the faster they can put him back to sleep, the better.

Tony arrives soon after with a warm rag and a bandaid. He notices how sleepy his son is and kneels down in front of him. 

“Hey, Peanut,” he coos. “You all tuckered our now? That’s good. Papa and I are gonna put you to bed real soon, love.”

Carefully, he wipes at Peter’s face to rid him of snot and tears, and he even picks up the pacifier, wipes it off, and sets it on the coffee table. Next came the bandaid, and for some unknown reason Peter hates them, is terrified of them, so Tony has to work fast.

“ _Voila_ ,” he says, holding up Peter’s foot to show him. “No harm done, ay Pete?” 

Peter just stares back with tired eyes and lets out another yawn, rubbing his eyes with his fists.

“We hear you, buddy,” Stephen says and stands up to take him back to the nursery.

“Wait,” Tony says, making him turn. “Maybe he should sleep in our room. Y’know, just in case he wakes up again.”

Stephen smiles wide. Tony never did get used to Peter moving into his own room, and nearly begged to let him sleep with them just a few more nights but Stephen had always held his ground.

 

“ _It’s_ _healthy_ _for_ _him_ _to_ sleep _his_ own _room_ ,” _he_ _told_ _Tony_ _the_ _first_ _night_ _Peter_ _moved_ _into_ _his_ _nursery_ , _while_ _the_ _two_ _were_ _cuddled_ _up_ _in_ _their_ _empty_ _bed_.

“ _I_ _know_ , _but_ it _suuucks_ ,” _Tony_ _groaned_. _He_ _tossed_ _his_ _head_ _back_ _for_ _dramatic_ _effect_ _making_ _Stephen_ _roll_ _his_ eyes.

“I _know_ , _baby_ , _but_ _he’s_ _ok_. _He’s_ _just_ _down_ _the_ _hall_ _and_ _if_ _anything_ _were_ _to_ _happen_ —“

“ _Oh_ God, _don’t_ _say_ _that_!”

“— _he’d_ _be_ _fine_. _He’s_ ok, _baby_.”

 _Tony_ _pouted_ _and_ _sunk_ _deeper_ _into_ _the_ _bed_. 

“ _Whatever_ _you_ say, _Doctor_ ,” _he_ _groaned_. _It_ _was_ _truly_ _torture_.

 

Stephen looks at Tony’s big pleading eyes and sighs.

“One night.”

Tony’s face about splits in half with a smile and he runs over to place a kiss on his cheek. Then his lips.

“You know I’m not letting it be one night, right?” he whispers as the three walk back up the elegant stairs. Stephen looks down at Peter, now asleep in his arms, and then back to his husband with a cocked eyebrow. 

“I’m well aware,” he jokes. He always pretends to be the strict parent— to the both of them, really— but Stephen is just as glad as Tony, if not more, to have their baby boy with them for one more night. He makes the bed feel more cozy and warm, and they wake up feeling overjoyed. Peter was the best thing to happen to them, a true miracle, and they both love him more than anything. 

As the three settle into bed, after what seemed like hours, kisses are placed all around and goodnights are whispered throughout the dark.

And sleepily, and oh so quietly, they hear Peter mumble a, “Ni ni, dada. Ni ni papa,” and the world couldn’t have seemed brighter. Even at 2am.


End file.
